by Liu, Cynthea
Cece dug in her backpack and her hand closed around a pack of Tic Tacs. Good enough. She pulled it out and shook some mints in her hand.
“Mind if I have some?”
Cece looked up. The blonde girl was talking to her.
“Sure.” Cece held out the pack.
“Thanks. I owe you one.” She gave Cece a wide smile, showing off a perfect set of white teeth. It occurred to Cece that the girl could totally pass for an Abercrombie model with her stunning blue eyes and long legs, shown off in a pair of denim cutoffs. The girl shook a few Tic Tacs into her palm and took a seat next to Cece. “Nothing more disgusting than bus breath, you know?” She popped them into her mouth. “I’m Kallyn. From Colorado.”
“I’m Cece. Texas.”
“So are you here voluntarily,” Kallyn said, “or did someone force you to apply?”
“Voluntarily,” Cece said, hoping that was the right answer.
Kallyn looked slightly relieved. “Me, too.” She leaned against the wall. “So, what part of anthropology do you The Great Call of China like best? Are you more into the physical aspect of it or the cultural?”
“Definitely cultural. What about you?”
“Physical. Last year, I went to a program in northwestern Colorado and got to dig up real arrowheads. The director let me keep one.” She pointed to a key chain hanging from her messenger bag. A shiny obsidian arrowhead dangled from the chain.
“How did you manage that?” Cece said.
“My mother is the director.” She grinned.
“Miss Charles?” Jenny called.
“That’s me.” Cece stood, gathered her bags, and turned to Kallyn. “Good luck with your room assignment.”
“You, too.”
Smiling, Cece went up to Jenny, hoping her roommate would be as cool as Kallyn.
“You will be sharing a room with Jessica Ye,” Jenny said, handing Cece a key. “She arrived last night. Very nice girl. Your room is on the third floor. Number 307.”
Cece took the elevator up, thinking that “very nice” would certainly do. She stepped out and found the door to her room, smoothed her hair, then went inside. The first thing she noticed was that one of the beds looked slept in. A Gucci purse was resting on top of the sheets.
“Hello?” Cece said.
“Just a second,” came a voice from behind a door.
Cece dropped her things onto the empty bed and unzipped her suitcase. She heard the bathroom door open and turned. An Asian girl with gorgeous, wavy hair stepped out, patting a towel to her face. “Hi, I’m Jessica,” she said. “You’re. . . Celise?
“Call me Cece,” Cece said.
Jessica put the towel down. “Do you mind that I took the right side of the room. The closet on this side seemed a little bigger, and I have a lot of clothes.”
“No,” Cece said, trying to be polite. “I don’t mind.” But a part of her sort of did. What if she had a lot of clothes?
“So. . . ” Jessica studied her. “Are you Chinese?”
“Uh. . . ” Cece tried not to act taken aback by the question. She wasn’t used to people asking her that so directly. She turned to her suitcase and started unpacking. “Yeah, I’m Chinese.”
“Great! Me, too. We can totally commiserate together.”
“Commiserate?” Cece said, looking back. “Over what?”
“You know, like everything ?” Jessica sat on her bed and reached for her purse. “Like how our parents are always trying to send us off to math camp or something equally tragic. Can you believe this one though, archaeology?”
“Anthropology,” Cece corrected.
“Yeah, whatever.” Jessica opened her purse and took out a compact. She started applying powder to her face as she talked. “It’s as if they know how lame anthropology sounds. You know what my father said to me?” She The Great Call of China mimicked his voice. “‘Lame is good. Lame get you into good school!’ Next thing I know, Dad’s pulling strings, and I’m on a plane from San Francisco heading to China. Aggravating, isn’t it?” She snapped the compact shut.
“I guess,” Cece said uncomfortably.
Jessica rummaged through her purse. “So, I noticed that your last name is Charles. Is it your mom or your dad who’s Chinese?
Here we go again. Don’t act weird. “Actually, I’m adopted,” Cece said. “My parents are white.”
“Really,” Jessica said. She went through her purse again. “Then. . . if you don’t mind my asking, how exactly does that work in your family? Have your parents tried to teach you any Chinese?” She pulled out a tube of lip gloss.
“Not really,” Cece replied.
“Well, that’s okay. I can totally help.” She applied the gloss, and the room filled with scent of strawberry. “What about your friends back home? Are any of them Chinese?”
Cece paused before answering. “No, not many Asians go to my school.” In fact, there probably weren’t even enough to fill a Volkswagen bug.
Jess looked up. “So what about Chinese culture then? Like how much do you know about customs and stuff?”
Cece stared at Jessica. What was this, twenty questions? “Um. . . not a whole lot.” She immersed herself in unpacking. Once again, the conversation was making her feel inept. And with Jessica, it was even worse than it had been with Will.
“Nothing about culture, huh?” Jessica said. “Well, consider yourself lucky on that front. My parents can’t stop reminding me how Chinese I am.” She got up and opened the door to her wardrobe. A mirror hung from the inside of the door. She twisted from side to side as she studied her reflection. “Oh, wait, one more thing. . . ” She turned toward Cece. “Would you date an Asian guy?”
Cece nodded. “Yeah, why wouldn’t I?”
Jessica’s eyes brightened. “Oh, I have so much to teach you. Let’s start with rule number one.” She started counting off on her fingers. “Never date an Asian boy. Why? First, they’re a little too close to their mothers, if you know what I mean. Second, odds are they’ll be more interested in computer games than you. And third, nabbing one over five feet eight is like statistically impossible.”
Cece frowned. “Aren’t you stereotyping though?”
“Call it whatever you want,” Jessica said. “I am so done with Asian men. Just don’t tell my parents I said that.”
Someone knocked at the door, and Cece was glad for the interruption.
“That’s probably my friend Lisa,” Jessica said, getting up. She opened the door and an Asian girl swooped in. The Great Call of China Her hair was cropped short and streaked with blonde. A YSL bag hung from her arm. “Jess, you will not believe what my roommate is doing now.” She noticed Cece and stopped. “Oh, hi.”
“Lisa,” Jessica said. “This is Cece.”
“Hi.” Cece smiled and gave Lisa a little wave.
Lisa smiled back.
“Lisa’s parents are friends with my parents,” Jessica explained.
“Which means I’m also here against my will,” Lisa finished. Then she turned to Jessica and pouted. “Why are you always so lucky? While you’ve got Miss Cuteness, I had to get Sirena.” She glanced at Cece. “She just spent ten minutes showing off the Encyclopaedia Britannica CD she brought for research.” She flopped into Cece’s desk chair. “I might have to stay with you guys if the situation gets any worse.”
Jessica surveyed the room and shrugged. “Why not? We could get a cot and put it between our desks. If it’s all right with you, Cece?”
Both of the girls looked at her.
Cece swallowed. “Um. . . sure.”
“Terrific. Lisa, you now have a backup plan.” Jessica checked her watch. “Is everyone ready? They told us to be at the bus at eight fifteen for dinner. We don’t want to keep the boys waiting.”
Cece grabbed her purse and reluctantly followed the girls. She thought she’d like to have some fun this summer, but going on a manhunt with the Asian Brat Pack wasn’t exactly what she’d had in mind.
Well, maybe the food
tonight would be good. She loved Chinese.
Cece got on the bus that would take everyone to the restaurant for the program’s welcome dinner. As she followed Jess and Lisa down the aisle, she nodded hello to Mark and Jenny in the front and spotted Kallyn a few rows down, talking to a girl who had really short black hair and dark red lipstick. Maybe the girl was her roommate. Before Cece could say hello, Lisa tugged her along. “I think Jess has found us some seats by some very cute guys.” She pulled Cece toward the back, where Cece could hear Jessica talking.
“Excuse me,” Jessica said, “are these seats taken?”
When Cece saw who Jessica was talking to, her stomach flipped.
Will looked up. “No, go right ahead. Oh, hey, Cece.”
Jessica looked at her. “You two know each other?”
“Yeah,” Cece said nervously.
Will nodded. “We met earlier on the plane.”
“Well, that’s nice,” Jessica said, sitting down next to Will. “I’m Cece’s roommate, Jessica.” She gestured toward Lisa. “And that’s Lisa.”
Will nodded, then glanced at a guy sitting in the row ahead of him. “This is my friend Alex.” Alex smiled at the girls, and Lisa promptly plopped into the seat beside him. Will continued with the introductions. “And I’ve just met Dreyfuss.” Across the aisle, a boy wearing a baseball cap nodded toward Cece. “I go by my last name,” he said. “Don’t ask me about my first. Have a seat.”
Cece politely smiled and settled beside him. She made small talk with Dreyfuss, trying to ignore the incessant flirting Jess was doing with Will. Eventually, though, she found it hard to concentrate with Jess’s sugary laughter in the background. Cece inwardly groaned. Could her roommate be any more obvious?
The bus finally came to a halt along a busy road and opened the doors. As everyone exited, Cece found herself on a crowded sidewalk flanked with shops and restaurants. The cacophony of traffic filled her ears, and as she followed her group, she had to be careful not to bump into people trying to get by. Eventually, they stepped inside a restaurant with floor-to-ceiling windows. The fragrance of meats and Asian spices drifted to Cece’s nose, making the place seem promising. Several hostesses greeted the group at the doorway. Their uniforms were gorgeous—red satin dresses with mandarin collars and embroidered with a gold bamboo print. They kept saying “Huanying guanglin,” which Cece guessed meant “welcome”. . . or. . . “go upstairs” since they were all gesturing that way. (She really needed to learn some Chinese.) Jenny and Mark took the lead and went up a narrow granite stairwell. They followed as the sound of clanking plates and boisterous chatter wafted from the dining rooms. When they finally got to the fourth landing, Cece stepped through the threshold and was taken aback. The room spanned the whole floor. The decor looked distinctly Asian, from the watercolor scrolls hanging on the walls to the rosewood chairs and the red carpeting. Uniformed servers stood by round white-clothed tables.
Under Jenny and Mark’s instruction, a line of Chinese people who seemed slightly older than Cece formed along one wall. Cece guessed they were probably their student hosts from XU. Most of them were dressed like any college student in the States—jeans, T-shirts, shorts—and what was interesting to Cece was that most of the girls didn’t wear makeup. It was kind of refreshing.
Mark called roll, and one by one, American kids from the S.A.S.S. program, about forty in total, went up to him, pinned name tags to their shirts, and paired up with the local students. After Cece got her name tag, she approached her host, a skinny guy wearing a Houston Rockets shirt. His badge read PETER “SHI YI” LU.
“Hi, Cece, nice to meet you,” Peter said in accented English. “You are from Texas, right? Do you like Yao Ming?”
“Um . . . ” Cece said, “Yao who?”
The Great Call of China
“Basketball,” Peter replied. He pointed at his shirt. “The Rockets?”
“Oh.” Cece shrugged. “I’ve never heard of him.”
“Never heard of him?” Peter’s eyes widened. “You are from Texas and you do not know about the best basketball player in the USA?! You have to learn. I will teach you.”
“You will, will you?” Cece said, a smile tugging at her lips. There was something about Peter’s goofy nature that was endearing.
“Yes,” Peter said, “I will have to tell you all about America.” He ushered her toward a table. “I know a lot. Robert De Niro, Tom Cruise, McDonald’s. . . ”
Cece laughed as she and Peter sat down. Jessica and Lisa joined her, along with Will, Alex, Dreyfuss, and their hosts. Jessica, Will, and Lisa had been paired with guys. And Alex and Dreyfuss were with girls.
“Thanks for saving us a table,” Jessica said as she and her host, George, sat down. George was kind of round and short, and, judging by the way Jessica wasn’t even looking at him, she probably wasn’t thrilled to be paired with him. Lisa, sitting to George’s left, looked far more pleased with her host, Michael—a preppy guy dressed in a polo and khakis.
Soon everyone was seated, and Cece tried to pretend it didn’t bother her that Will was now sitting directly across from her, looking especially good in a white button-down. He glanced up at her and smiled. Cece returned the smile, then quickly turned to talk to Peter again. But at that moment, Mark quieted the room as he stood at the podium. “All right, let’s begin, shall we? Welcome to the S.A.S.S. anthropology program. First, I would like to give a big hand to our hosts from our partner program at Xi’an University.”
Everyone politely clapped.
“I promise I’ll keep this short. The purpose of tonight’s dinner is for everyone to get to know one another. Your hosts are college students attending the Intensive English Program, or IEP, at XU. This means your objective will be to help them with their English courses as much as possible. In exchange, they will assist you with your cultural and language studies. You should meet with them as often as you can; they will be as invaluable to you as you will be to them. Now, orientation begins tomorrow. That’s Sunday, in case anyone has lost track—ten A.M. There will be an exam tomorrow, so talk with your hosts and start sharing.”
“Exam?” Lisa complained. “About what?”
“I have no idea,” Dreyfuss said. “But does anyone want to guess what that is?” A server had just placed a platter of what looked like shredded vegetables on the lazy Susan.
“It’s carrot and turnip,” said Amy, Dreyfuss’s host. “Very good. Try.” She took some of the veggies, then spun the lazy Susan.
When it came to Cece, she used her chopsticks to ease some onto her plate with grace. If there was one thing she The Great Call of China did know about being Chinese, it was using chopsticks. She lifted the veggies to her mouth. Not bad for her first dish in China. It was kind of spicy, a little sweet, a little sour. She went for seconds.
Next, a chef in a white hat pushed a cart to the table. As Cece turned to face the cart, her enthusiasm for authentic cuisine fizzled into the atmosphere. A roasted duck with its head still intact stretched across the cart. The chef picked up the fowl and snapped it at the neck and head. Then he ripped the bill off the duck’s face with one quick jerk. Finally, he raised a butcher knife and split the skull into two.
Cece winced.
The chef scooped up the parts, put them on a plate, then set the plate on the lazy Susan.
The duck’s broken face was staring right at her.
While everyone watched the chef slice the remaining carcass, Peter said, “Are you okay? It is only Beijing duck. Think Chinese chicken burrito.”
Cece nodded weakly.
Peter must have sensed she wasn’t okay because he rotated the duck so it was staring at Dreyfuss instead. “Better?”
She nodded again. “Yes, thanks.” But her appetite had just left the building.
From that point on, the food situation only got worse. It was as though the menu planner had purposefully picked the most disgusting things to serve. Cece’s idea of a meal did not include a slimy eel coiled on a plat
ter (it looked ready to attack), live shrimp drowning in a bowl of wine, or steamed pregnant crabs with orange eggs.
The odd thing was Cece seemed to be the only person at her table affected by the Ripley’s Believe It or Not meal they were having.
“Don’t look sad, Cece.” Amy pushed up her glasses with the tip of her finger. “All this, Chinese delicacy. This very special dinner for special occasion. We don’t eat every day.” She poked at a fish skull with her chopsticks and balanced a glassy eyeball on the tips. She put it to her lips. Slurp! “Eyes good for vision.”
Will and Dreyfuss grimaced.
Cece’s stomach churned.
“Amy, I don’t think Cece looks sad,” Jessica said. “Try green.”
It was too much. Cece got up from the table. She didn’t know which way the bathroom was, and her insides were now officially doing the Wave.
“Cece, what’s wrong?” someone said.
She covered her mouth. She couldn’t stop picturing fish eyes, live shrimp trying to climb their way to safety, broken duck faces. . . . She saw the blurry image of a door and bolted for it.
Will grabbed her wrist. “Cece, it’s that way.”
But it was too late.
In her room, Cece lay in bed on her side, a wadded-up tissue in her hand. Even though she’d brushed her teeth a million times, she thought she could still taste carrots and turnips. She wiped at her mouth.
“It wasn’t that bad.” Jessica was sitting across from Cece on her bed, gently smoothing moisturizer onto her face. “I mean, Will’s khakis weren’t all that great. He can pick up another pair here for like five bucks. He said so himself.”
Cece moaned. Throwing up all over someone’s pants—especially a cute boy’s—was not a way to start the program. “I feel like such an idiot.”
“Oh, don’t worry about it. That room could have used some more excitement. I mean, did you see who my host was—George? The entire time he only said like two words. Ni and hao.”
Cece scrunched her forehead, trying to figure out what the words meant.
